


saturday nights

by orphan_account



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Blizzards & Snowstorms, Cute Stranger, First Meetings, Fluff, Forgotten Wallets, Instant Connection, M/M, Meet-Cute, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:53:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27166174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Minho has had a very bad day, but a stranger with kind eyes and even kinder soul manages to completely save it.
Relationships: Bang Chan/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 43
Kudos: 91





	saturday nights

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chnbtch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chnbtch/gifts).



> Credits to chnbtch for giving the cute prompt for this short story;
> 
> _"Minho walked all the way to a café in a blizzard, but he forgot his wallet, so Chan (who Minho has never met before) buys coffee for him"_
> 
> I hope that I managed to do some justice to it! Enjoy!

The city has retreated to the safe and warmth of indoors. 

The endless amounts of streetlights and neon signs are shining through the darkness and the blizzard, only for Minho. The streets are empty of other people, only snow and parked cars fill the quiet streets. The wind is blowing hard, making rustling sounds as it runs between the multilayered buildings. 

Minho tugs the hoodie of his winter jacket better over his head, the raging snowstorm keeps pushing it back repeatedly. The coldness has bitten Minho’s cheeks, painting them with the uneven red color. The red will shortly turn to white if the male doesn’t get out of the blizzard soon.

The footprints Minho leaves behind get immediately washed off with the wind and the new snow, leaving no trails that someone had been out walking in the horribly gelid weather. Minho pushes his hands further inside his pocket, desperately trying to warm them a little.

Luckily, the coffee shop he’s heading to isn’t far away anymore. After another tiring day in his dead-end job and noting how bad the weather was getting, Minho had decided to differ from his usual way back home to visit the coffee shop for some very hot, possibly slightly sweet coffee. It’s a place he’s now visited couple of times since he recently moved to this city, one of the only places he yet knows. 

Minho’s legs feel heavy when he finally reaches the coffee shop. There is snow stuck on the windowsills and the glass but he’s still able to see through the windows. He can see the warmth and the serene atmosphere, decorated with the dim fairy lights and the dark oakwood furniture. Some of his anxiety already sheds away when he pulls the door open and steps inside. 

Minho is greeted by the rich scents of freshly grinded coffee beans, cinnamon and cardamom, and hints of old tobacco. There are only few people in the coffee shop; the barista, a young man by the window and a couple on the other side of the room, close to the bathrooms. Minho takes the hood and his beanie off of his head, ruffling his hair a bit. He walks closer to the counter. The surrounding warmth feels nice against his algid cheeks and fingers.

Minho skims through the drink's menu on the black board behind the counter, handwritten with white chalk. The barista, a young woman with long black hair done to a tight topknot and cat-like light-brown eyes, gives him a small smile, greeting him brightly,

“Hi! What can I get for you?”

“Hi”, Minho greets, “A large latte with vanilla flavor, please”

“Great. Anything else?”

“No thank you”, Minho smiles.

“Okay”, she nods smiling and hits the numbers to the cash register, “That makes four and thirty”

Minho opens the zipper of his worn-out messenger bag, reaching for his wallet. Only to realize that it’s not in the pocket where he usually keeps it. Minho’s heart makes a jump and he starts rummaging through the bag. He can’t find the wallet.

 _No, no, no_ , Minho thinks, an embarrassed blush slowly creeping up his neck, _this can’t be happening._

Expect that it can. And, to be completely honest, he’s not even so surprised by it. Everything has gone wrong today, starting right from the early morning, so forgetting his wallet and only realizing it when he’s already ordered something in a coffee shop, is just the cherry on top of everything.

The barista waits patiently, as Minho desperately goes through his bag. If there’s any consolation for him, it’s that the barista doesn’t seem to find the situation bizarre in any way. Eventually, Minho lifts his eyes back to her, giving her an embarrassed look.

“I guess I forgot my wallet”, he says, grimacing a little.

The barista gives him an empathetic smile, the genuine kind, not condescending. Just as she’s about to say something, they’re suddenly interrupted.

“I can pay for that”, someone, who’s appeared nearly next to Minho, says. Minho realizes that it’s the young man who had been sitting by himself by the windows. The stranger has dark, slightly curly hair, brown eyes, and delicate dimples on his cheeks. He gives Minho a smile, the kind that reaches all the way to his eyes. And Minho swears that the stranger has the warmest and kindest eyes he’s ever seen.

“Oh, no, you don’t need to”, Minho says hastily, after he’s taken a second to observe the beautiful man who’s now standing right next to him, leaning towards the payment terminal. 

“But I want to”, he just says. 

“That’s very kind”, the barista says smiling, as she hands the payment terminal to the stranger so that he can press his card against it. It only takes a second and then the machine is already printing out the receipt, “Thank you. The latte will be up in a moment”, the barista then says and turns to make the drink.

“Thank you so much”, Minho says, really meaning it. He hates moments like these, because he feels like he never manages to express his gratitude well enough. He can only hope that the dark-haired male can pick up on it. And he’d like to think that based on the genuine smile he receives, that the stranger can.

“It’s nothing”, the male says, and for once in his life, Minho is inclined to really trust a stranger. The dark-haired man still gives him a small nod, maybe slightly endearingly awkward one, and then he turns and walks back to his table next to the snow-decorated windows. Minho doesn’t immediately even realize that his eyes follow the stranger’s movements all the way until he sits back down. 

“Here you go”, the barista suddenly says, handing the steaming hot coffee over the counter. Minho quickly turns around and receives the drink, thanking her in the process. The barista moves to do something else and Minho stands in his place for a moment, the heart shaped latte art staring back at him from the mug as he contemplates what to do next. 

It’s not a very long contemplation, because he feels like he still needs to say something to the stranger with the kindest eyes and prettiest dimples. Slowly, he walks towards the occupied table, his boots making light sounds against the dark hardwood floors. He tries not to spill the drink in his hands.

“Thanks again”, Minho says when he reaches the table, “It was really nice of you”. The stranger lifts his eyes from the notebook in front of him, looking up at Minho.

He gives Minho another smile and then nudges his head towards the chair on the other side of the small table, “Do you wanna sit?”, he asks. Minho sets the hot mug on the table and then, almost shyly, draws the chair from under the table and sits down.

“I’m Chan”, the male, _Chan_ , then introduces himself. 

“Minho”, Minho smiles and introduces himself in turn. He takes a sip from his coffee and then looks at the notebook on the table in front of Chan and the pencil that the other is holding in his hand.

“What are you writing?” Minho asks curiously.

Chan casts his eyes down at his writings, before lifting them back at Minho, “Oh, I’m actually scribbling down some song lyrics. I make music”, he explains, a small smile dancing on his lips and contented spark shining in his eyes.

“That’s amazing!” Minho says earnestly. He’s always loved the idea of doing something artistic, “Can I see?”

Only after the question has already escaped his lips, Minho realizes that his inquiry is probably slightly too invasive considering they have just only met. But Minho can’t help it; there’s this weirdly familiar and comfortable feeling surrounding him in the presence of Chan. Maybe it’s because Minho can somehow already tell that the male sitting across from him has one of the kindest souls he’s ever encountered.

Chan clearly gets surprised by the question, but then he lifts the notebook, “Sure”, he says and hands the object to Minho, “Just don’t steal any of my lyrics”, he then says jokingly. Minho lets out a small laugh and then starts carefully reading through the pages. The notebook is clearly old, the paper has gotten wet and wrinkled and dry again, it’s full of writing with pencils of all colors, and Minho can just tell that it is the most prized possession of Chan’s.

He gets lost in the world of catching rhymes, beautiful and meaningful sentences, and relatable content. Minho spends a lot longer going through the notebook than it’s socially acceptable.

Then, eventually, he finally lifts his eyes from it, zoning back to real life. He looks at Chan,

“These... are simply amazing. Perfect. You’re so talented”, he says with nothing but truth and admiration in his voice.

Chan’s face turns to a shy, yet bright smile. A rosy blush raises to his cheeks to accompany the eye-catching dimples. He lets out a slightly awkward laugh, scratching the back of his head a little “Ah, you’re making me blush. But thank you”, his eyes have now formed to two beautiful crescents.

Minho smiles and hands the notebook back to Chan. The older closes it and then sets it on the side of the table. He leans back on his chair, thinking for a second, before straightening his back again.

“You know what”, Chan says, “I’m pretty sure we won’t be able to leave this place any time soon, considering the weather, so I think I'm gonna go get me a piece of cake from the vitrine. How about you, do you want one?” he says with adorable enthusiasm.

“Oh, no, I think it’s enough that you already bought me a coffee”, Minho says, giving the other a sheepish smile.

“Oh, come on! Are you seriously just going to sit there and watch as I eat some delicious cake? I know you want some, you’re just too modest to accept it. If it makes you feel better, you can pay the next time”, Chan gets up from his chair.

 _The next time._ Minho loves the sound of that.

“Fine. I want the cheesecake”, Minho then relents.

“One cheesecake coming right up”, Chan flashes him a smile and then heads to the counter again. After a moment, he comes back with two pieces of cheesecake.

“I figured I'd take the same for both of us so that it won’t suddenly feel like the other has more delicious-looking cake”, Chan explains when he sets one of the plates in front of Minho.

Minho swears this man is the most adorable person he’s ever met.

They sit in the coffee shop for a long time as the blizzard rages in the streets outside. They get to know each other, talking about anything and everything that comes to mind. And maybe there’s even some discreet flirting thrown back and forth. Maybe.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading <3


End file.
